Out Of The Woods
by allhailthehutch
Summary: I always thought it would be me. My missing leg and damaged brain were cause for concern, but still, she went first. Katniss fought her entire life to survive, and when the time came, she didn't want to fight anymore.


I always thought it would be me. My missing leg and damaged brain were cause for concern, but still, she went first. Katniss fought her entire life to survive, and when the time came, she didn't want to fight anymore.

My days don't make sense without her gentle kisses and shy smile. I still bake to pass the time, but nothing can replace the company that Katniss gave me.

It's my 85th birthday next week, and my grandkids want to throw me a party. I don't have the heart to tell them that I'm not in the celebratory mood.

I lost Katniss a year ago. The pain is still fresh when I wake every morning. There's no way to prepare for life without the person you've depended on for happiness since you were just a child.

My body aches as I putter slowly around the kitchen. Katniss use to love when I would wake up extra early to make her favorite treats.

When the smell of warm cheese buns would float upstairs and into our bedroom, she would hurry downstairs with a bright, excited smile. I made sure to see that smile everyday because I remember a time when I didn't think I would ever see her smile again.

My hands are trembling more today. I've always had it, but it's worsened with age. My doctor said it was from the hijacking. I was better with Katniss around. My episodes were few and far between. Since she's been gone, my daughter has gotten countless calls about me wandering around muttering incoherently.

I wish I had the strength to care.

When I think about my children, I don't worry for their safety anymore. They will manage just fine without me. These days, they take care of me instead of the other way around.

My chest feels heavy as I remember the days my beautiful, perfect babies were born. I was terrified when my daughter came into this world, but when the midwife placed her in my arms. I was never afraid again. The day my son was born, I barely had time to prepare myself. Katniss woke me up in the middle of the night, and within the hour, I was holding my screaming bundle of joy.

My little family was what kept me from having dark days. I couldn't fall apart when my daughter and son depended on me for their survival. Watching them grow up in a world without the Games was a gift. I was happy to know they would never have to experience the fear their mother and I did.

I remember the day my baby girl wasn't a baby anymore. She took my arm as we walked down the aisle to her future husband. I looked back at Katniss who had tears in her eyes.

She was in good hands, so I didn't worry too much.

I thought holding my children for the first time was amazing, but when my daughter handed over my first grandson, I burst into tears.

Katniss and I had created a wonderful life together. Our house was always filled with the laughter of our grandchildren.

We never felt more alive.

Then it was quiet.

Katniss began to slow down, and I could see her struggling to keep up. Her steady decline was heartbreaking, and I couldn't handle it. We had always prepared for death. It was normal in our lives. But when the time came, I wasn't ready to say goodbye. There was still so much I needed to say.

I wasn't ready to let go of my forever.

She looked up at me from our bed that we shared for years. I kissed her forehead like I've been doing since I was seventeen. She grabbed my hand and squeezed tightly. "Let me go."

I blinked away the tears as I remembered the last time she said that to me. The last thing I wanted was to lose her back then. "I can't."

She fought for as long as she could, but eventually, her eyes closed and never opened again.

I had an episode for the first time in years the day after she died. My son held me tightly as I cried for the loss of my best friend. The woman who gave birth to my beautiful children. The girl who I threw that burnt piece of bread to so long ago

The days dragged on without Katniss, but I kept on for my children and grandchildren. I'm tired though. My life has been filled with blessing after blessing. I have no regrets–well maybe just one. I wish I would have told Katniss how I felt long before we played in the Games. That would have given me more years with her.

My mind isn't what it use to be, but I could never forget Katniss. She left a lasting effect on my heart.

I make my way slowly to my bedroom. My body is exhausted, and I need to rest. It's hard to believe that I'm alone now. I wake up every morning expecting to see her resting peacefully next to me.

My eyelids feel heavy as I lay on the bed. It's time to let go. Things will be okay. I take in a deep breath, which is a struggle.

I'm tired.

I can see her so clearly. She's wearing the orange dress that she wore on the day of our toasting. She's seventeen again. Her dark hair, olive skin, and gray eyes look youthful and full of life.

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" I say to her with a smirk.

Katniss holds out her hand, and I know what she wants me to do. If I take her hand, we will be young again. Our scars will fade away, and we'll be whole again. I don't really care about the scars, though. The scars are memories of what I've lost but also what I've gained.

Katniss brought me back to life when I was just a shell of the man I use to be. She'd never think that, but it's true. I survived because of her.

"Let's go to the woods, Peeta," she says softly with an adventurous smile.

"I'll scare away the animals..."

She shakes her head. "Not anymore."

When my feet hit the ground, I feel it. The cold metal is no longer there. I have both of my legs again. "It's time to go."

I thought I would be afraid to die, but it's not all that bad. Katniss grabs my hand as the warmth of her touch takes away all my aches and pain. "Prim and Haymitch have been waiting for you."

"Stay with me?" The light shines so brightly that I can barely see her anymore.

"Always."

And then I'm home.


End file.
